Clive's Secret
by Nixi Stasia
Summary: NW storyline. PL characters. AU. Clive and Flora have always been best friends. Inseparable. Even so, Flora has always suspected Clive to be holding a secret that he tells no one. But when she's diagnosed with a terminal illness, Clive can offer her a chance of survival... But can Flora choose his offer over death? Clive/Flora HIATUS. Read my profile for more info. :) x
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Welcome to my newest story! Also, my first Clive X Flora one! **

**Is a X-over with **_Night World, Secret Vampire,_** but is it's plot, so... Well, you don't need to know anything about **_Night World_** whatsoever. I will put it into the category of X-overs once it's finished- this is just so people can see it. :)**

**If you do know **_Night World_**, then here's the character list! :D**

**Poppy-** Flora  
**Phil-** Luke  
**James-** Clive  
**Poppy's Mum-** Layton (Bit of a gender swap there)  
**Cliff- **Emmy (Bit of a gender swap there too :P)

* * *

**Disclaimer: **_I own a copy of all the _Professor Layton_ games apart from _Miracle mask _and all the _Night World _books but I have no rights over them at all. _Professor Layton _belongs to _Level-5 _and _Night World _belongs to _L. J. Smith. _I take no credit for the characters and the storyline and make no profit making this story. It is created for entertainment purposes only._

* * *

Clive's Secret

Chapter One

* * *

Flora Layton woke up on the first day of the Summer, feeling as if she were unstoppable. It was finally, the holidays and she was free to do what she wanted for a whole six weeks. She didn't have to be woken up by a screeching alarm clock at six every morning- she could sleep in all day, if she wanted. But, no, what Flora wanted to do was live her Summer.

Sadly, it was that day, that Flora Layton, on the first day of Summer, would find out that she was going to die.

The young brunette jumped out of bed, her pink, linen sheets flying up in the air, that floated back down against the bed sheets. Then, the teenager, skipped over to the window, flinging the gold curtains back so that she could gaze upon the view of London life. The sunlight had already been streaming through the window, but now the curtains were back, it was beautiful; blinding, but beautiful.

Flora smiled upon the world beneath her. It was just approaching mid-morning (according to the clock up on her wall) but it was already so full of life. People rushing about on their way to work, children playing and some adolescents giving our newspapers on their morning rounds. So full of life.

Grinning at the thought of her freedom for the next month and a half, she walked over to the door of her bedroom... And winced.

A strong, sharp shot of pain pierced its way through her abdomen, like a needle. Only thicker. And as if it was gnawing away at her. Like a black hole that was swallowing her up from the inside. Biting her lip, Flora bent down, clutching her middle- it helped a little if she were in that position. Slowly, but surely, the pain faded and before long, it had disappeared completely. With no trace of it ever being there.

Flora then made her way to the bathroom- other than her bedroom, the most colourful room in the house. The walls were plated with turquoise tiles and the ceiling a bright white (being the ceiling, it never got dirty from finger prints- though a small layer of dust and spider webs was beginning to build up in the corner). The bath was mostly clean and the steel taps had been carved into dolphins. Flora stared into the mirror, which hang on the wall opposite to the bath and smiled sheepishly.

Her skin was pale- it always had been, but it seemed more white than usual. After noticing this, she shrugged it off and put it down to the fact that she'd just awoken from a short slumber. Grabbing a brush from the shelf, Flora threw her light brown waves over her face and yanked the brush through (her hair could get messy easily). Then, she looked back up at herself in the mirror and after another grin, she made her way downstairs.

Flora found her twin brother, Luke, sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal whilst reading the newspaper. She frowned as she spotted the paper in her hands- Luke had to be the only boy their age who read the newspaper. Even though it was the sports section, it was still reading. It was the only thing that Flora wasn't jealous of him about. It took a lot of courage to admit that she _was_ jealous of him in many ways, but she indeed was. His looks for example; his hair was brown like Flora's, but somehow, it seemed to be softer- and shinier. It was his eyes, however, that Flora liked, a sparkling blue. Then again, they were exactly the same as Flora's- though she did not believe hers to sparkle.

Their eyes were the only things the twins had in common. Not one thing about their personalities were similar; they were completely different. The most ironic pair of twins anyone could ever come across. Luke always went to great strengths to please others, but did it to make a show of himself really. Well, in Flora's opinion he did. How was it that one person (who was only year ten anyway) could be an A-star student, on the Student Council team and football team. All of these things annoyed Flora to no end, but what made her boil with frustration more, was his determination to do everything 'properly'. He was far too sensible; far too straight-laced; and in Flora's opinion, far too boring!

"Hello, Luke," Flora greeted, with a playful, energetic voice.

"Good morning," he replied flatly, only slightly lifting his eyes away from the newspaper to face his sister.

"Where's Dad and Emmy?" Flora questioned, as she made her way into the kitchen. The kitchen was slightly like the bathroom; the same turquoise tiles aligned the walls, but there was no sign of inanimate objects in any shapes of any animals

"Dad's getting dressed and Emmy's at work" Luke answered, this time not looking up at all from his newspaper. Emmy Altava was their Stepmother of three years and was a police officer at Scotland Yard. Despite her authoritive job, Emmy was a lot more fun than the twins had first expected. When their Father wasn't around, he often came home to find pillows split and the stuffing thrown across the front room and the children sliding down the staircase on the sofa cushions. Their Father, on the other hand, was a lot more sensible than his second wife. As a teacher at a University, he had most of the Summer free too, whilst Emmy carried on working as normal, "Dad will be on your case if you don't eat something."

"All right, all right!" Flora exclaimed, reaching into the cupboard where things such as bread was kept and pulled out a box of _Frosted Flakes. _After opening the paper tabs at the top of the box, she rummaged through the internal, plastic wrapping and pulled one frosted flake out of the box. She ate it dry, then put the box back on the kitchen counter.

"Why don't you put some clothes on?" Luke suggested.

"This _is_ clothes," Flora said, looking down at her cotton, white nightgown.

From across the hallway, there was a light, but sturdy pound at the door. Still full of energy and life, Flora galloped over to the window and saw Clive standing by the front of the door.

"C'mon in Clive!" Flora shouted and not a second later, the front door opened and in walked Flora's best friend, Clive Dove.

Looking at him, Flora felt the same knot tie itself around her, as it did every time she saw him. It wasn't just his devastating good looks that caused it to happen, but there was … something... Flora was sure of it. She just wasn't sure what it was. His hair was a mix between gold and bronze and his skin was pale (paler than Flora's) almost silver. His face seemed emotionless, but full of something that lay between sweetness and pain. It was subtle, but is was there. And Flora could see it.

Luke, however, was filled with repulse, anger and disgust at the sight of his sister's friend- who he feared would one day become much more than that. Something like a pulse of hatred channelled its way between the two boys and they both froze into a fluid of their own dislike for each other. All three could feel the tension sink, drift and rise into the room.

"Hi," Clive said, speaking with much more dignity than Luke could manage.

"Hi," Luke replied in a tone that was neither snapping or growling, but had to be either, "How's Lilly or Amelia? Whichever you're with at the moment."

"Like I know," Clive shrugged, after a few moments of fake consideration.

"Of course, I forgot," Luke snorted, "You ditch your girlfriends just before the summer. So you can do what you want with who you want, right?"

"Exactly that," Clive smirked.

Whilst Luke experienced even more irritation with Clive, Flora felt another thrust of joy pang through her chest. Goodbye to Amelia's luscious blonde locks. Goodbye to Lilly's perfect, hourglass figure. It was going to be a brilliant Summer.

Everyone- included each other's families- thought that their relationships were platonic and in many ways they were. However, Flora knew for a fact, that they would marry one day. Though Clive liked the athletic girls, or the dancers, with the blonde hair, pneumatic chests and long legs, Flora knew that they were just flings and really, he loved Flora and always would.

"Is that a new CD?" Flora asked, hoping to distract Clive from ripping his future brother-in-law's head off.

"Yeah, the new _Evanescence _album," Clive nodded, holding the CD out.

"Yay- more Christian rock," Luke groaned.

"Let's go and listen to it, come on, Clive," the brunette gestured for him to follow her up the stairs.

However, it was then that the twins' Father, made his way down the stairs. He was calm and subtle as he gently stepped down the cream carpeted stairs. He wore brown trousers, with a matching jacket and orange top. His hair was a dark brown also, but mostly covered by a brown top hat (in the same colour as his jacket and trousers) which had an orange ribbon circle the rim like a bracelet. He was a Professor, by trade.

"And you can stop right there, young Lady," Flora and Luke's Father scolded, but in a some way, kind voice, before turning to look around the room, "Has everybody had breakfast?"

The two boys nodded, where Flora said nothing. Once the boys had answered, the tall man turned to his daughter.

"What about you, Flora? Have you eaten?" he asked.

Without a word, Flora skipped back over to the kitchen, where the box of _Frosted Flakes_ still sat. Flora picked up the box and gave it a small rattle. Her Father raised his eyebrows.

"You could at the very least, put milk on them, you know, Flora," the man sighed.

"Better this way," Flora shook their head.

Realising that as long as she ate, it wouldn't really matter, the Professor sighed and changed the subject.

"So, what are you planning to do with your first day of Summer?" he asked.

"I'm not sure yet," Flora mused, "We could go into town, or Hyde Park..."

"Whatever you want," Clive shrugged, "We have the whole Summer ahead of us."

For another time, the girl smiled at the thought of the Summer. It stretched out in front of her and she realised that it was all hers. Hers to spend with Clive. They'd even spoken about catching the train down to Brighton and Hove for the day. Even in Britain, it did get hot during the Summer. And even if it rained, it wouldn't matter.

_It's Summer_, Flora thought, _And no one can take it away from me._

"I was thinking about going to see those new shops. They've opened not far from here. Nothing more than a bus..."

Flora was cut off as the pain made another stab at her abdomen- like a murderer on its victim. It ripped through, biting, pulling and squeezing. Her breath caught in her throat was she inhaled, her reply being cut of completely. Then, the kitchen disappeared and she found herself, in a world of grey.

* * *

**AN: Reviews are much appreciated! :D x**


	2. Chapter 2

Clive's Secret

Chapter Two

"Flora!"

Flora could hear her Father's voice, but couldn't tell how far away he was from her. The amount of emotion she could hear seemed unreal when compared to how far away the voice seemed to be. Then again, she could feel his breath against her cheek, so he couldn't be that far away.

She couldn't see anything either. Everything was obscured by a series of flickering dots, like a television with extremely bad definition. However, all of her other senses seemed to be intact still.

"Flora, are you all right?!" Flora heard her Father ask hastily, as she felt his arms try and pull her up, from under hers, anxiously. Just as her Father pulled her up, Flora found her vision coming back and the pain easing.

As she found her balance and straightened up against the fridge door, Flora saw Clive in front of her. As always, his face was emotionless, but Flora could still see the concern in her eyes. The concern that strangely gave her comfort.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Luke demanded, standing up next to the chair, which he'd been sitting on.

"I... Don't know," Flora shrugged. To be truthful, she was embarrassed and wished more than anything that people would stop looking at her, "It's just this stupid pain- I think it's gastrowhatchamacallit. You know, something I ate."

Sighing, Flora's Father gave his daughter a slight squeeze on her arm, as if he were to shake her back into reality.

"Flora, this is not gastroenteritis," he told her, firmly, "You were having some pain like this a month ago, weren't you? Is this the same pain?"

Flora thought a moment before answering. Technically, the pain had never gone away or stopped. It had a been constant and annoying, but in the midst of the end of the year, it had become a lot easier to disregard. In fact, by the end of the school year, she could work around it and ignore the pain completely.

"Sort of," Flora settled for, "But..."

As an archaeologist, Flora's Father was always sure to get the solid evidence for going any further. But this was different. In the case of his daughter, even the slightest thing that showed up suggesting that his daughter was unwell, he reacted swiftly.

"I know you don't like doctors, but I'm calling Dr Schrader," he said, reaching for the telephone in the cradle, "This isn't something we can ignore."

"But, Dad, it's the holidays..." Flora moaned, as her Father put the phone to his ear.

"Flora this is non-negotiable," he scolded, covering the mouth piece of the phone with his hand, "Go and get dressed."

Groaning, Flora gestured for Clive, who was still standing where he had been when she'd regained consciousness, to follow her.

"Let's at least listen to the CD before we have to go," Flora beckoned.

Glancing down at the CD in his hands, he nodded and then followed her up the stairs. Luke followed both of them up the first three steps.

"Hey, Clive, you stay down here until she gets dressed," Luke ordered, sternly.

Both Clive and Flora stopped halfway up the stairs, but either turned around to face him. Flora rolled her eyes, but Clive didn't even move a muscle.

"Get a life, Luke," Clive replied, motionless.

"Just keep your hands off my sister."

Flora sighed silently, as the two carried on back up the stairs and her brother made his way back down to the table. As if Clive even cared about seeing her undressed. _If only, _she thought. Sometimes she even wondered if he knew she was a girl. He certainly did enjoy making his way around the school, taking away girls' purities, but he'd never shown any interest on getting his hands on Flora. He'd seen her in her underwear many times before, but there had never been any change in emotion or his movements.

Flora had never been sure whether to take this as a insult or a compliment. It definitely meant that he didn't want to hurt her like all the other girls he had, but it also gave her a sense of feeling unwanted. Then again, they were best friends. And according to Clive, Flora wanted nothing of the such- well, that's what she thought anyway.

Following her into her bedroom, he gave her a smile. One that he very rarely gave. And only gave it to Flora. Not any of the blonde, curvy line of girlfriends had even seen the side to him that he willingly showed Flora. It wasn't a sadistic grin, but more a understanding nod. One that made Flora feel better.

"Sorry about the doctor thing, "Flora apologised, pulling her pink dress out of the wardrobe and pulling it over her head.

"No. You should go," Clive dismissed, "Your Dad's right, you know, This pain- whatever it is- has been going on way too long. You've lost weight; it keeps you up at night..." Flora stared at him, startled. She hadn't told anyone about the pain, let alone the problems it had caused. Sometimes, Clive just knew. Like he could read her mind, "I just know you, that's all," he told her, as he unwrapped the CD.

Flora shrugged and flopped down on her bed, as Clive put the CD into the player and pressed the button with the arrow, pointing to the right. As the electronic, techno beats echoed around the room, Flora glanced up at the ceiling taking in every note of the music.

"I just wish my dad was more like yours," Flora told him, grudgingly, "Mine's always trying to fix me."

"Because he cares," Clive protested, "Mine don't care."

"They let you have your own apartment," Flora argued back.

"In a building that they own, because it's easier," Clive shook his head, before turning around to face Flora, with a strange look that she'd never seen before, "Are you worried?"

"No," Flora scoffed, "Are you?"

"Of course not," he replied, "But if you were really sick, I would be. But hey, that's what friends are for, right?"

"Right," Flora smiled, wistfully.

"But you're not," Clive said, "It'll just be something they can take care of. Probably with a big needle."

"Oh, shut up!" Flora exclaimed, throwing a pillow at him. Flora winced, as Clive mined someone being injected with a- by the looks of it- very big injection. She frowned. Clive knew as well as anyone, if not more, that she hated needles.

"Here comes your Dad," Clive told her, getting up and throwing the pillow back over to her.

Flora glanced at the door, wondering how he could tell; the music was loud and the landing was carpeted. Yet, the Professor opened the door and stepped inside.

"All right, Flora," she said briskly, "Dr Schrader says come in straight away. I'm sorry Clive, but I'm going to have to take her away from you now."

"That's okay, I can come back this afternoon," Clive said, before they all left the house.

Whilst her Father tugged her away to his shiny, red car, she stared behind her shoulder at Clive as he made his way off in the opposite direction. Knowing that she was now defeated and that she had no choice but to be dragged off to the surgery, she clambered into her Father's car. For a joke, they'd nicknamed the car 'The Laytonmobile' since it was said that the twins' Father loved his car so much, it was considered to be part of the family.

Once they were strapped in, the car started up and they made their way down the road.

-X-

Half an hour later, Flora was lying on Doctor Schrader's examining table, as he probed his fingers against her stomach.

Doctor Schrader was a short, fat man with a white beard, that Flora found hard to imagine any other colour. The brunette had never exactly been able to trust him and her fear of doctors was only made larger by her family doctor. However, she knew that it could've been worse. Though Flora did constantly wonder if he would ever retire; he looked about ten years past the retirement age.

"The pain is here?" the doctor asked.

"Yes. Just below as well," Flora replied, "I mean, it sort of goes down into my back- unless I just pulled a muscle back there or something."

The doctor's fingers moved upwards and probed a bit deeper down. Flora felt a small twang as his fingers hit one of her organs. Suddenly, the doctor's fingers stopped probing and just simply stood on her abdomen, like they were frozen. And just like that, Flora knew that things would never be the same again. It wasn't something that could be cured easily, if it could be cured, and she knew that things would never be the same again. A chilling shiver of fear ran down her spine.

"Well, I think we should re-arrange for Flora to have a test on this," Doctor Schrader said.

His voice was perfectly neutral, so Flora couldn't devise whether he had a suspicion about Flora's symptoms, or if the tests were protocol. She assumed that when Doctors had to hide worry or confusion from their patients, they'd have to hide it, with something like the thoughtful tone Doctor Schrader had used. She had to admit, she'd never heard him use the tone of voice that he just had before.

"Why?" the Professor asked, more confused than worried.

"Well, just to eliminate possible reasons for Flora's symptoms," the Doctor replied, walking over to his desk and pressing a few buttons on his keyboard. "Flora says she's been having pain in the upper abdomen, that's worse at night and radiates towards her back. Also, recently, she's lost her appetite and quite a bit of weight. And her gallbladder is palpable; that means enlarged. These are symptoms of lots of things, and a sonogram will just help rule some of them out."

The fear shrivelled away, from Flora, slightly. She wasn't entirely sure what Doctor Schrader had meant, which strangely, momentarily reassured her. Rather than focusing on what bad things he could be saying, Flora decided to be optimistic and focused on the fact that for all she knew, nothing could be wrong at all.

The Professor was nodding, like he understood, which Flora found likely. Though his degree was in archaeology, he seemed to know an awful lot about most things. When the plumbing went wrong in the house, he knew how to fix it. When the car broke down in the middle of nowhere, he knew how to sort it. When Flora or Luke (though that was rare) were stuck on their algebra homework, he knew how to teach it to them. What chance was there what he didn't know how the human body worked?

"You can get the sonogram done at the children's hospital. I'll call them now and tell them you're on your way. Come back here after it's finished."

Outside the Doctor's surgery, the Professor ruffled his daughter's hair. "What have you done to yourself now," he mused.

Walking towards the hospital, the fear returned to Flora and she felt all the calmness, slowly drain away. She wasn't sure she wanted to find out.

* * *

**AN: Thanks to _The Mocking J, luvstwilight4ever, lilyb12 and Amy Angel Allen _for reviewing! **

**x**


	3. Chapter 3

Clive's Secret

Chapter Three

The Gressenheller Children's hospital was both patronizing and intimidating at the same time, for Flora Layton. Patronizing since Flora didn't often see herself as a child. She was slightly maturer than most people her age and on the verge of becoming seventeen. But with the giant picture windows and teddy bears painted on the wall, she felt as if she'd walked into Toys R Us, by mistake. She felt like she shouldn't be there- or at any hospital at all, for that matter. However, it was a hospital. A place for sickness, injury and death. The age group didn't matter, it was still a hospital.

Walking past the gift shop, Flora looked through the window and stared at the collections of soft toys, picture books and colouring books. A girl walked out of the shop. She was slightly older than Flora, with expertly done make-up and clothes that someone on the front of vogue would wear. On the top of her head, was a purple bandanna that covered most of her head. But there was no way to cover up the fact that she had no hair. Flora felt a stab of sympathy for her- and fear.

Suddenly, she wanted the tests over and done with as quick as possible.

As she lay on the bed, in the dark room, with her Father waiting outside, the technician smoothed an icy gel over Flora's middle before running a scanner over it. The test wasn't uncomfortable or painful, but still slightly disturbing and as the dark room made Flora drowsy and soon found herself yawning.

After ten minutes or so, the technician wiped the gel off of Flora's skin and told her the test was over.

"What did the sonogram show?" Flora asked, wiping the remaining grease off of her middle.

"Oh, your own Doctor will tell you that," the technician replied, so neutrally that Flora wasn't sure whether to be calmed or frightened.

-X-

Within half an hour, Flora and her Father were back in the Doctor's surgery, reading a magazine each (the Professor on soduku and Flora on fashion). Flora was terrified, but hiding it as well as she could and using the shiny photos of the blonde models in the magazine to distract herself, staring down at their expensive and preppy clothing.

When the receptionist called "Mr Layton?" they both stood up.

"Er, sorry, no. Doctor Schrader just wants to see Mr Layton for a moment," the receptionist explained, non-caringly.

After a quick glance between Flora and her Father, they nodded at each other, before Flora sat back down and the Professor followed the receptionist towards Doctor Schrader's office.

The worry returned to Flora, no matter how much she tried to concentrate on reading the magazine. Breathing deeply in panic, she squinted at the page, as the words jumped and span around the paper. The worry curled up inside of her, eating her out from the inside. No thoughts could stop it.

The clock on the wall continued to tick away. Two minutes. Five minutes. Ten minutes. twenty minutes. Why were they taking so long? What was going on? What where they speaking about? What could possible be so wrong that they'd spent more than twenty minutes talking about it.

And that was truly when Flora knew it. When she knew that she was going to be terribly sick and she was going to have to have some terrible treatment to get well again. And that was the best that would happen.

When the receptionist finally stood up and told Flora she could go into the Doctor's office, she stumbled giddily towards his door. She was surprised at how she'd managed to make it over and into the office without falling over with fear.

Both Flora's Father and Doctor Schrader were sitting down with a smile. But in no way did Flora feel comforted by either of their grins.

"Now there's no cause for alarm," the Doctor began, once Flora had sat down- her hands sticking to the leather arms of the chair, "But something showed up in the sonogram that's a little unusual, and I'd like to do another couple of tests to be arranged. Soon."

"O...K," Flora said nervously, trying to ignore her hammering heart, "What tests?"

"Well, one's a CAT scan, which is like an X-ray but for tissue instead of bones and an ERCP," he began to explain, "Which is a test that involves passing a tube through the throat and down into the pancreas. Then, we inject a liquid into the tubes, which will show up an x-ray and give us a clearer view than the sonogram did. The ERCP will require you to stay in the hospital over night and for you to fast from midnight until the day of the test, but your Mother informs me that you haven't eaten yet today?"

"I ate one piece of cereal," Flora replied immediately and emotionless.

"_One _piece of cereal? I suppose we can count that as fasting," Doctor Schrader nodded.

The Professor noticed his daughter tense.

"It's not a problem, Flora," he said, with a smile, "We'll just go back home, pack some spare clothes and then go to the hospital for the tests."

"I have to go to the hospital _today?" _Flora asked, her voice plain and hard.

"I think that would be best," Doctor Schrader told her.

Flora said nothing; her mind was blank.

When they left the office and they were back in the car, on the way home, the Professor made light conversation. Flora forced herself to answer, but her voice was trembling and crumbling with every syllable. The worry raged inside her like a ball of fire and it was almost impossible to ignore.

It wasn't until they were back at their house and packing Flora's overnight bag, when Flora finally asked her Father the question she didn't want to know the answer to. "So, what does Doctor Schrader think is wrong with me?"

"Well..." Flora's Father hesitated, "He doesn't know if anything is wrong."

"But what does he think?" she almost snapped, turning around on her heels to face her Father, "He must think something. And he was talking about my pancreas- I mean, it sounds like he thinks something is wrong with my pancreas. I thought he was looking at my gallbladder. I didn't know this had anything to do with my pancreas..."

"Flora, dear," the Professor cut his daughter off, taking her by the shoulder, "Just, please, calm down."

"I just want to know the truth," Flora whispered, "I just want to have some idea of what's going on. I mean, it's my body, and I have a right to know what's going on, don't I?"

Flora soon decided that it was the bravest speech she'd ever made. What's more, she didn't mean a word of it. What she wanted, was reassurance. That what Doctor Schrader was looking for was something small. Like appendicitis.

"Yes, you do have the right to know," the Professor replied, in a quiet voice, "Flora, Doctor Schrader was concerned about your pancreas all along. Things can happen in the pancreas that cause changes in other organs. For example, the liver and gallbladder. When Doctor Schrader felt those changes, he decided to use the sonogram to check your pancreas."

"But... He said the sonogram was 'unusual'. How unusual?"

"Flora, this is all preliminary..." the Professor continued, reluctantly, "But, the sonogram showed that there might be something in your pancreas. Something that shouldn't be there. That's why..."

"Something that shouldn't be there? You mean... Like a tumour? You mean like..." the words stuck in Flora's throat, "Cancer?"

"Yes. Like cancer."

* * *

**AN: Okay, if anyone has any past with cancer then I would suggest you stop reading now. It's effected my life and I cried a tiny bit writing this. Just a warning. **

**Reviews are fab! x**


	4. Chapter 4

Clive's Secret

Chapter Four

Flora wasn't sure what to think of the news. She wasn't sure if she thought anything about it at all. The reassurance that she'd wanted wasn't anticipated in the slightest, however she hadn't prepared herself for the answer that she already knew.

At first, the words that her Father had spoken didn't mean anything at all. It was like he'd been speaking a different language. The words seemed to be empty, yet at the same time they made Flora freeze. For several seconds, Flora stood there not moving a muscle of her limp body, until the news sank in.

Cancer. That was a disease. A real, life-threatening disease that could only (and most likely maybe) be cured by having a painful treatment that would make her even sicker. She tried to reply to her Father, but the words seemed to sink deeper and deeper to her sink, plaguing her veins with nauseous poison that swam right to her head.

It didn't make sense. She didn't feel ill. Well, not at that moment anyway. In fact, with the exception of the sleeping and the pain she'd been fine. No sickness, no headaches or anything like that. She didn't feel ill, or weak (or she hadn't before she'd heard the news) so how could it be possible for her to have a possibly terminal illness?

"B...But they can do something about it can't they?" the simplest of words stuck in her throat, "I mean, I can have an operation can't I? And..."

The Professor looked up from where he'd been packing Flora's overnight bag (after the news she'd just received, he highly doubted she would be in the mood to do so) and immediately rushed over to his daughter, firmly taking her by the shoulders.

"Flora, listen to me," he said, "Even if you are ill, than you will get better. I will not let _anything _happen to you."

Flora was scared stiff, but she managed a nod. She managed to relax a little, but the fear was still there- just maybe covered with a thin blanket.

"I need to call Clive," Flora told her Father, suddenly realising how badly she wanted to see him.

Understandingly, he nodded. "Be quick, though," he replied, "We need to get back to the hospital."

As she rang Clive's number, she found herself hoping more for him to pick up than for her to be healthy. With the hand that she wasn't dialling the number with she kept her fingers crossed behind her back tightly (even though she'd never believed in any type of superstition). Whilst the dial tone echoed throughout her eardrums, she closed her eyes, praying that he would answer.

And he did.

"Hello?" his voice beat down the receiver like a broken tune. The crackling noise the phone made didn;t suit his voice.

"Clive, it's me," Flora said. Panic was beginning to reel again inside her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, detecting the worry in her voice almost immediately.

"Nothing," Flora replied, before shaking her head at her own idiocy, "Well, everything. Maybe."

"Flora, what's going on?" Clive asked, sharply.

Flora took a deep breath. She could feel the words clumping together in her throat, ready to be spoken, but the weight of the words were heavy with fear. "They think I've got cancer." It was a relief to say it.

There was no reply.

"Clive?" Flora said down the phone, "Are you there?"

"I'm here," Clive replied- automatically this time. "I'm coming over."

"There's no point," Flora told him, "I'm about to go to hospital for tests."

"Right," Clive said. His voice was flat without expression.

"Clive, can you do something for me? Can you search _pancreatic cancer_ on the web?"

"Is that what they think you have?"

Flora nodded at first; not realising that Clive was on the phone and couldn't actually see her. She quickly corrected herself.

"Yes," she said, "I have to go into hospital for tests. I'll call you back when I've had them."

"Okay," Clive said, "I'll see what I can find on the net. Good luck"

The line went dead.

-X-

Clive put the phone down feeling even more like stone than usual. He stared at the inanimate object that had just shown him Flora's fear and refused to blink for so long that he soon couldn't see the phone. When he finally gave in and blinked, he continued to stare at the phone. But he didn't see it.

He'd known something was up for Flora for a long time now, and he knew it was something bad. He just didn't know that it would be _this _bad. Her sleep was being plagued by whatever illness it was and her appetite had disappeared. Her body seemed to be different, too; like the rhythms off it were all out of time with one another. And Clive had noticed.

After a few seconds of numbness and ice, he jumped back up straight and opened the lid of his laptop. Without patience, he drummed his fingers on the side as he waited for the laptop to load. Once it had, he quickly typed in 'pancreatic cancer' into google and clicked the first result that came up.

It was a patient file- one that would explain the basics of what the disease was. He skimmed the page quickly, soon realising that it gave him no information neither him or Flora most likely wouldn't know. He closed the page and scrolled down the list until he found one that looked like it held new information. The first one he found was a page like the previous one, only made for Doctors and clinicians.

Opening the page, he froze again after reading the first line.

_Cancer of the exocrine pancreas is rarely curable. _

He was paralysed from that and his eyes stayed glued to the screen. They stared at the words, only just stringing a few words together. Even without the entire sentences legible to him, he understood perfectly.

_Low survival rate... pain... poor response to chemotherapy, radiation and surgery... average survival rate is usually three weeks to three months..._

Sharply, Clive stood up, closing his laptop with a violent push. He kicked the chair back under the table with his foot and left his apartment, slamming the door behind him.

He knew what he had to do next.

* * *

**AN: Sorry for the late update! Got very busy with exams and shows! I'm back now! :)**

**Thanks to The Mocking J, Imagine Worlds, Melody The Superhero and Celena Descole for the lovely reviews!**

**x**


	5. Chapter 5

Clive's Secret

Chapter Five

Flora sat in the hospital bed, wearing a grey gown that was just as miserable looking as she was. She stared around the ward with her arms folded across her chest, just above wear the thin blankets covered her torso. Other than there being a slight draft in the room, there was nothing exactly horrible about the room. However, as Flora was trying to forget, this _was _a hospital and hospitals were for sick people, leading Flora to the only possible conclusion; whatever was wrong with her (whether it was cancer or something else, more or less serious) she was sick.

The young brunette found it ironic that the walls were covered in happy cartoons of mice and dogs and the curtains in floral patterns. Hospitals; the place were people came when they were sick and to die. She tried to look on the bright side of things. The people here were nice, but that was obvious. They were being nice to people because they were going to die. Simple as.

Flora's Father came in whilst she was playing with a remote control which controlled the bed. The Professor rolled his eyes at his daughter, as she pressed the green buttons, shaped like arrows, raising and lowering the bed. He was pleased to see her distracting herself from the current situation and although the smile on her face was small, it was still there. Knowing that his daughter was doing what she could to stay strong reassured him slightly. It made him think that if she could be smiling at this point in time, maybe there was nothing wrong with her at all. Maybe this was a simple misunderstanding.

But really, he knew that it wasn't the case. Something was wrong, and it could be easily treatable, or it could not be. But either way, something was wrong.

-X-

Flora had always seemed so small to Clive. She was bubbly, energetic and cheery a majority of the time, but Clive had always spotted a fraction of weakness inside her. Something that would be triggered when something horrible were to happen. And now it had been triggered and the fear was beginning to pour through.

Of course, there was still the chance that she didn't have cancer. After all, nothing was certain yet. But somehow, Clive knew. Something had just always seemed... off, with her. The rhythm of her body was all out of tune. She'd seemed more dazed a considerable amount of the time, which was due to a lack of sleep. He thought perhaps something had been bothering her. He'd noticed her flinch or wince in pain, when there was nothing anywhere near her, also.

Really, he'd known something had been wrong with her for a long time. He just hadn't known what and he had certainly _never _expected it to be something this severe.

Flora knew, too. She must have, otherwise her voice wouldn't have rattled down the receiver with so much fear. She wouldn't have let her trigger of fear been pulled unless she really was sure. Of course, he doubted that she had known it was something as serious as _this_, but she must have known that there was something more than just a stomach bug or virus wrong with her.

He knew that if Flora had this disease, then that would be it. She'd be gone in a matter of weeks. He doubted she'd even last the six week long summer holiday!

Clive also knew what a dead body looked like. He knew what dying was like; he'd seen it and felt I everyday. He knew what a dying person looked like, he knew from a look at them how long they had left, close to the second. He knew what someone's last breath sounded like, he knew the gaze of a body's eyeballs. Their ghost-like greyness and he could match the colour of a deceased to a colour of paint on a display of shades. He knew what happened inside the body, after the person died. How all the organs stopped working, one by one. He knew how the skin would shrink and curl up, meaning you would get smaller.

And Flora truly was so small already.

Everyone was fragile to Clive. Everyone. But no one as much as Flora. Maybe that was why he cared about her so much. Or maybe she just seemed so small because he cared about her. Either way, it didn't matter. He cared about her and he wouldn't- he couldn't- let this happen to her.

Clive pulled his deep blue car into a dreary car park that was kept at the back of an abandoned factory. It wasn't a nice part of the city and that was why it was used as a place where _his_ kind would live and spend their days (and nights). It was a part of the city that not only tourists would avoid, but anyone.

The neglected factory had been shut down seven years ago due to a break in the health and safety regulations. It was grey and damp, with thick layers of moss hanging from the bricks. Red, blue and green spray paint covered the left side of the bottom wall, next to where a skip had been dumped. It must have been recently put there; Clive hadn't noticed it that last time he was there.

He walked down to the back door. The paint was blue and peeling. There was no need for it to be re-painted. Above it, there was a wooden sign hanging down. A bit like something that would be used for identification of a tavern. Scratched on, was a black flower. A black iris.

With the back of his hand, he knocked twice and the door cracked open, revealing a pair of black, pin-point eyes.

"It's me, Boros," Clive growled.

The door opened several inches more; just enough to let Clive inside. Once he'd stepped inside, the large, bald man, whose skin was a strange reddish-purple, glanced suspiciously outside, before slamming the door. Clive ignored him and stepped through.

It was like a pub, dimmed lights with a sense of clustered community. Groups of werewolves, witches and wizards sat crowded around tables, that were cramped tightly together. There was the rusty sound of grunts and chit-chat rumbling across the room and Clive picked up a few sentences from different creatures as he walked further down to the bar.

He looked up at the barmaid, who turned to give him a surprised look.

"Clive," she smiled warmly. Her voice soft, with a sort of edge to it. Mystery. "It's been a long time."

Her blue eyes glimmered in the soft candle light, as she smiled at him. Her skin was pale and reflected the flame into a radiant glow and her dark pink lips more glossy. Taking a step forward to him, she pushed her long, thick, hazel hair off of her shoulders, cascading down her back.

"Yes, it's good to see you, too, Dahlia," Clive agreed nodding. He wasn't in the mood to talk, "I'm afraid I don't have long- I'm here on business."

"Aren't you always?" Dahlia chuckled, leaning down against the wooden counter, propping her pointed chin up with her hands.

"Yes, well... I need your help. Well." Her help wasn't what Clive wanted, "Your professional opinion on something."

Laughing again, she stretched her hands out against her face; her fingernails cat-like and dotted with silver glitter. "My powers are always at your disposal, you know that, Clive. What do you need? A curse? Good luck charm?"

Clive shook his head. "No, nothing like that. I need a... A charm or a spell that can cure a disease."

Dahlia raised her eyebrow again. "A disease? I wasn't aware your kind could get sick," she shook her head, looking in his eyes, "Very well, what disease is it?"

"Cancer." The word was spiteful and Clive spat it out. "And it isn't one of my kind who I'm looking for a cure for."

"Then what kind?" Dahlia questioned, "I know for certain my kind can't get any illness and you wouldn't care for a werewolf."

This would be hard to explain. "She... She's human," Clive sighed, "I haven't broken any laws or anything; she doesn't know about us. And I don't want to break any either. I just want her well."

Dahlia's smile disappeared and her eyes squinted into a glare at Clive. "Are you sure you haven't broken any laws already?" she hissed. Her voice was now sharp and unkind; the softness had gone. Looking down at Clive, she leant forward, her voice ceasing into a whisper, "Are you sure you're not... in love with her?"

Clive couldn't say anything in response. He returned the glare, meeting her eyes.

Dahlia shook her head and stood up. "Well, Clive, if you say you haven't broken any laws, I believe you," she dusted off her dark skirt, "Now if I were you. I'd walk right out of here now and forget we ever had this conversation."

Nodding, Clive stood up. "And the spell?"

Dahlia's head turned sharply to face him. "There is _no_ such spell," she snapped, "And even if there was, I wouldn't give it to you. Now _go._"

Without any other option, Clive turned and left. He was out of options and out of hope. Even his world said so. Of all things, not even The Night World could help.

If Flora had this disease, she would die from it.

* * *

**AN: Thanks to The Mocking J, Celena Descole, SweetBeast and Melody The Superhero for reviewing. **

**Please leave a review! **

**x**


End file.
